Tiffany, you’re wrong about why the footy media boys’ club blacklisted you. Having worked in that world, I know the real reason – and it’s awful: JANA HOCKING

‘I think it’s time we talk about the elephant in the room. Where I am. What’s happening with my career. Or let’s be honest, what’s not happening.’

This is how New Zealand sports reporter Tiffany Salmond began a 26-slide Instagram reel addressing questions about why she hasn’t been on TV in months, after her large fanbase complained about her absence from Fox Sports’ NRL coverage this year.

I read the entire thing – but I didn’t really need to.

Tiffany has her opinion on why she hasn’t been offered more work. She believes she was benched after becoming too popular with viewers, which upset the apple cart among Foxtel’s pale, male and stale top brass.

But as someone who used to work in ‘bloke media’ – in my case, Triple M – and having worked with some of the biggest names in rugby league, I have a good idea of why we began seeing less and less of Tiffany last year until – pooft – she was gone.

In February 2024, Tiffany, then working as a sideline reporter for Warriors games, made a late‑night phone call to fellow presenter Jake Duke, unaware that he was dating Seven News reporter Grace Fitzgibbon.

That call broke up the couple, who had been dating for three years. Fitzgibbon was apparently ‘devastated’ and moved out of their shared Sydney apartment. It didn’t take long for the split – and Tiffany’s involvement – to make headlines.

Duke, long described as a ‘golden boy’ of Fox League, continued with his commentary duties following the split. Salmond’s career, on the other hand, floundered.

In her Instagram reel addressed to her 40,000 followers, Tiffany alleges she was ‘silently shut out’ and quietly removed from Fox Sports’ coverage without explanation.

‘I didn’t leave rugby league media, I was sidelined,’ she says.

‘It’s been a wild few months. The love, the DMs, the comments. The way in which so many of you have been vocal about viscerally missing me.

‘Then you juxtapose that next to the fact that I’m still off air. The silence, not only is it disorientating – it just doesn’t make any logical sense.

‘When I really sat with that, I realised that this isn’t just about me. This is a broken system and a prime example of how the industry handles women who don’t fit the usual mould.’

Oh, Tiffany. You’ve only got it half right.

I’ve no doubt you’re right about a ‘broken system’ and, yes, it would appear as though you’ve been blacklisted. But as for the reason why? I’m sorry, but you’ve got that part all wrong. 

This isn’t about Tall Poppy Syndrome or you being ‘too bold’ or ‘disruptive’. Nor is it about the blokes of sports media being threatened by the grassroots support you get.

No, this is a corporate media tale as old as time: a minor scandal involving a man and a woman, from which the man has emerged unscathed while the woman is quietly cast off.

I’ve seen it happen time and time again. And women always lose. 

It’s an unspoken rule in media: if a woman’s name ends up in a whispering campaign or a group chat, the safest thing for the bosses to do is just… stop calling.

It’s about preserving the man’s reputation, and, by extension, the whole boys’ club network that’s been running the joint since the first footy got kicked.

You weren’t sidelined for being too good, Tiff – though you are an excellent broadcaster and all my male friends tell me ‘that girl knows her footy’.

You were collateral damage in an industry that protects women only if they follow a very narrow set of rules.

What are they?

You need to be likable – which you absolutely are – without outshining your male co-host. You need to be sexy – you definitely tick that box – without being too sexy or you won’t be taken seriously. 

And most importantly, you need to never make a mistake. Ever.

By calling a male colleague you did not know was in a relationship – which hardly makes you an axe murderer – you marked yourself as a troublemaker.

Every woman in this business knows you did nothing wrong. But it’s the Aussie way. 

If you were a sports presenter in the United States, with your stunning looks, obvious talent and grassroots popularity, I have no doubt you’d be a major star.

You’d be fronting sideline coverage for the Super Bowl. Networks would be falling over themselves to hire you. No way would a face like yours fade into obscurity without explanation.  

But in the land Down Under, things work a little differently.

The Aussie footy media boys’ club would rather fill a panel with crusty ex-players and journos whose monotonous commentary bores viewers senseless, than elevate exciting, glamorous stars like you, if it means they keep their noses clean. 

When you brought a whiff of scandal to a golden boy like Duke, you simply had to go.

You weren’t bad at your job. You were bad for the brand – it’s as simple as that. 

When I was working at Triple M, I was warned by a good friend – a respected footy commentator – that a married man in our industry had ‘taken a shine’ to me. 

His advice? Be nice to him – but not too nice. If his wife ever got wind of something, I’d be the one to lose my job. Not him. Never him.

It’s advice that stuck with me.

I had to walk that tightrope between protecting his ego and protecting my own career. And honestly, I didn’t even like the idea of a man with a wife at home ‘taking a shine to me’.

But that’s the highwire many women in the industry walk every day.

And you, Tiffany, just fell off. 

You say you’re too bold and disruptive for the industry – not an easy or safe hire. 

All of these things are true, just not in the way you think.

This isn’t about your sexiness or confidence, your authenticity or talent, or your obvious connection with viewers who clearly want you back.

It is, quite simply, about a late-night phone call to the wrong guy. 

And I feel absolutely awful for you.